


Explorations

by CottonRam



Category: League of Legends
Genre: FtM Ezreal, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-18
Updated: 2017-04-18
Packaged: 2018-10-20 15:13:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10665270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CottonRam/pseuds/CottonRam
Summary: I'm feeling really blocked on the larger stuff I was working on with these two, so I wandered off and wrote this instead. Sometimes, I like to think that Ezreal is so pretty because he's trans and got an extra dose of the babyface like me.





	Explorations

**Author's Note:**

> I'm feeling really blocked on the larger stuff I was working on with these two, so I wandered off and wrote this instead. Sometimes, I like to think that Ezreal is so pretty because he's trans and got an extra dose of the babyface like me.

“Are you alright with this? With me?”

I can't believe he just asked that. I cannot believe he really, honestly asked a cliché question like that.

“We're both naked and you're in my bed. I'm alright with it, Taric.”

I have my back turned, but I know he's making that half-smile. He's trying to play it cool. He wants to look calm even though he's worried. He thinks that because he gets his powers from the stars and the mountain, he should be just as stoic as them. You can tell he's still human, though; he cares too much not to be.

“Do you need a hand with the harness, Ezreal? Let me help.”

“No, no,” I answer, pulling one of the straps snug against my hip. “I've got it. Just relax.”

He's fidgeting when I turn around, even though he's leaning on his arm and trying to look relaxed. Still, he seems impressed. Not every day you see a guy like me, I guess, with a big silicone cock instead of the regular kind. He smiles a little bigger while he assesses it.

“You never told me what you like,” he offers while he strokes it. My eyes linger on his hand; I can almost feel his touch. Firm, but not harsh. Gentle, but not weak. A good, tight squeeze that doesn't choke. I have to hold in a shiver.

“I told you—you don't have to do anything special. Just... whatever you usually do.”

“Ha, well, if you insist.”

He keeps a hand at the base and uses his other arm to keep himself steady. He leans in close and puts the head in his mouth. I can practically feel his tongue swirling around it, the careful back-and-forth motion of his hand on the shaft. I can definitely, actually feel my face getting hot. He looks good doing it, with his hair spilling over his shoulders and his eyes just barely closed except for the occasional glance up at me.

“Deeper,” I whisper the next time he makes eye contact.

He obliges readily. He supports himself on both hands and takes the whole thing in. It sends a twinge through me and forces out an audible, halting groan. He grins around my cock as if to say he knows it's the sound of a job well done. Without thinking, I run my fingers through his hair and along his scalp. I'm not sure when my breathing got heavy, but I can't help but notice it while he's working his way back up the shaft and then back down again. Damn, he looks good doing it.

“Taric,” I exhale, trying to catch my breath.

“Am I doing alright, Ezreal?” he smiles at me while he leans back. He knows damn well he is.

“You're amazing.”

I climb into the sheets with him and he kisses me almost as deeply as he was kissing my dick. My hand wanders down in the meanwhile and finds him already hard. I'm glad he's enjoying it just as much as I am.

He's warm as he holds me close. He's a huge guy, but his voice is so tiny. I can barely hear him, sighing and groaning from deep in his chest, while I stroke his cock. I can feel the vibration in his throat while I kiss his neck and the way it intensifies when I use my teeth. I can feel his legs quivering when I twist mine in between. Despite how much bigger he is, it's easy for me to roll him from his side onto his back. He's like a docile, little kitten trapped in the body of a big, regal lion—mane and all.

I find one of his hands and work my fingers in between his while I hold myself over him. He reaches for something while I'm kissing him.

“Are you always like this, Ezreal?” he asks when he breaks it off. He's trying to hand me the lube. “Beautiful and confident. Leading like this.”

“I, uh,” I start while I fumble with the container. He really threw me off. “I don't usually get the chance,” I can feel my voice drop to a mumble as I warm liquid between my palms. “The other guys don't really see it that way, you know?” Taric moans a little when I insert a slick finger into him. “I don't know if anyone's ever called me that. Beautiful, I mean.”

He shifts his legs and hips to allow me better access. I lose the thread of the thought trying to finger him and grease my own cock at the same time. It's two different rhythms, two different distances, two different movements that I'm trying to make similar.

“That's outrageous. Simply because of your shape?” he asks, smiling even though his tone is disbelief. “You're still beautiful, Ezreal.”

“Taric, I...”

He sits forward as far as he can, with some help from his arms, and plants a kiss on my forehead. He leans his weight on one hand and uses the other to ruffle my hair.

“Truly.”

“... Thanks,” I blush. The sound almost doesn't come. “Um... Are you good? Can I...?”

“Whenever you're ready,” he purrs while he lays back again.

It really is like a purr, the way his voice comes from deep in his chest. My voice doesn't come from there; that same space is too full of my heartbeat. His words make me nervous even if he wants to take the pressure off, and my heart is pounding a deep, steady rhythm. My hand is quivering but I still manage to guide the head of my cock into him. I lean my weight into him, trying to take it slow.

“You okay?”

“Of course. At your own pace, Ezreal.”

I push a little harder, sinking it in a little faster.

“Mmn,” he sighs. His eyes close and face scrunches a little. Even without being able to see, I can almost feel the way his muscles tense and then relax around my shaft. Another push and it's completely inside him. He has a hand on my face, his thumb rubbing my cheekbone. “That feels good. How are you doing?”

“I should be asking you,” I laugh, my nerves turning his easy demeanor into a joke. “I'm not going too fast?”

“Not at all. In fact,” he smiles like I do when I have a clever idea, “be a just little rougher than you think you should be. That should be perfect.”

I'm suddenly really aware of my pulse again. I can hear it in my ears as I'm pulling back, withdrawing my dick from inside him like I'm drawing a bowstring. It skips a little as I thrust back in. My face is flushed, but the hesitation subsides. That motion felt _right_. My blood is pumping and so are my hips. It's subtle, but it's there. I can feel every stroke, every twitch he makes, every bit of resistance I meet against his ass. A thought comes to me while I ride him—a hazy memory of swimming up from underwater, chasing the light on the surface. That's what it's like. The sensation of my dick inside him is right there, just ahead. Just out of reach. So I keep swimming.

His legs wrap around behind me and keep me close; his hips rock back against me. I can feel sweat beading on my back and forming on my face. The way he moans leaves little to the imagination. There's no doubt in my mind he's enjoying it. My eyes peek open and meet his.

“A, a little more, Ezreal,” he pants, “please.”

Taric is red-faced, flushed with pleasure and effort. He strokes himself in time with me. I can feel my body teetering on the edge as I throw myself into him faster. I'm shaking and breaking rhythm. I know and I can't stop. I'm nearly there and so is he.

One last thrust and my chest gets tight. The breath catches in my lungs. A warm, rippling pleasure overwhelms every last corner of me. The idea of a sound reaches me; am I moaning? Is he? I can't tell. It's too distant. The last thing I see before my mind goes completely blank is the big, relieved smile on his face.

When my eyes open and I manage to exhale again, I'm already sprawled out across his chest. He has both hands holding me, his left rubbing my back gently. I can feel his breath still ragged, his skin still hot. He's still wearing that placid half-smile, but he looks so satisfied, somehow.

“Taric,” I whisper. I bury my face in the side of his neck.

“Ezreal,” he answers, calm. The vibration echoes from his chest into mine. “Thank you.”

“N-no, I... Thanks.”

He kisses my forehead again. I cling to him. There are a thousand things I want to say. But I don't know how to say any of them.

“You're beautiful, Ezreal. Truly. I'll say it as many times as you need.”

“You're the best, Taric.”

And just like that, I'm not sure I need to say anything else.

 


End file.
